Whispered Music (London Fairy Tales 2) by Rachel van Dyken Page A

any sort of excuse he could find for his wretched behavior. Truthfully, he had said those words about throwing his wife into the clutches of the sailors without thinking. Apparently another side effect of being with the chit. He was starting to care about hurting her feelings. It was becoming more difficult to be cross when all he wanted to do was ravish her where she stood.
    Confusion blurred his thoughts. The trip to the first coaching inn was going by faster than he expected. It was, however, helpful that Isabelle had been asleep most the journey so he was able to try to gather his thoughts as well as resolve not to touch her once they were again alone.
    Hunter found the entire situation most amusing. Unfortunately, he had chosen to ride in the carriage rather than use one of the horses, saying that his back had a dreadful ache that riding in the carriage would surely fix.
    But what he meant was, his back ached and the only remedy was sitting next to Isabelle and irritating the devil out of Dominique each time he leaned in and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent, like the true wolf he was.
    “If you value that nose of yours, cease from sniffing my wife.” Dominique groaned and looked around the carriage for something to hit. Something that wouldn’t give his friend a bloody nose or a bruised eye.
    Hunter just chuckled and crossed his arms. “I’m here to help you, friend, not steal your lady, though the idea of it seems rather exciting. In her current state, it would be too easy and you know how much I enjoy the chase.”
    Yes, Dominique knew his friend's secret past. It seemed the very goodness that made Hunter a loyal spy still wasn’t enough to blot out the darkness that often made itself known within the man. As a friend he was irreplaceable, as a spy he was the best London had to offer, but as a foe, he would be deadly.
    “Control your urges, Hunter.”
    “Fine.” He sighed heavily. “I still don’t know what else you expect me to do.”
    “Help.” Dominique looked out the window at the passing trees. “Support. The usual. I need to know her character. I need to see that she is safe, well, healthy. But I refuse to be the one who looks after her. I cannot allow myself to grow—”
    “Close,” Hunter finished knowingly.
    Dominique shifted. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see to the woman without crossing his own emotional boundaries, never mind the physical ones. He couldn’t see straight when his physical needs were present along with Isabelle. But Hunter, he trusted. His friend would be sure that Isabelle was well-received within the staff, was happy, could find enough to occupy her time, and in the end that she would feel grateful for her position as a Russian princess and English countess.
    So lost in thought was Dominique that when the carriage pulled to a stop, he jumped. Isabelle’s eyes slowly opened. “Get up.” He tried not to issue orders this time, softening his voice as he commanded.
    Dominique groaned when they entered the inn. Apparently someone had notified, not only the patrons, but the innkeeper himself. For the minute Dominique’s boot touched the threshold of the place, a cheer erupted from everyone’s lips.
    “Here, here! To the Royal Prince, may God preserve him!” the innkeeper shouted.
    “Here, here!” The audience joined in lifting their ale to the ceiling. Dominique was always uncomfortable with praise but even more so with Isabelle on his arm. Her shocked expression also didn’t help.
    “Close your mouth, beauty.” He chuckled.
    Her eyes widened even more when the crowds parted for them as they went to the innkeeper to obtain rooms.
    “Your Highness.” The innkeeper bowed low to the floor. “In honor of your return, we have set out a wonderful dinner in your room. Is this lovely lady to be staying with you tonight?”
    Dominique fought back a smile. No doubt she thought he the type of man to throw her to the wolves, proclaiming she was nothing more